Kaleidoscope
by Cugami
Summary: Alternate Universe. Ron is a Mortal. Draco is an Immortal. Where Mortals gave due respect to Immortals without question and bowed their heads, Ron remained standing and defied the natural law in refusing to acknowledge Draco worthy of respect.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Kaleidoscope

Part: 1

Author: Cugami

Pairing: Ron/Draco

Summary: Alternate Universe. Ron is a Mortal who made an Immortal Draco bleed mortal blood.

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter Series copyrighted to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. Kaleidoscope lyrics are by Francis Magalona.

A/N: This series had remained untitled for a very long time and I didn't want to upload it anywhere without a title. Kaleidoscope came to me out of nowhere and then I remembered it was a very, very old song in my country.

This is a fantasy story, one that starts with "Once upon a time," written with humor and sarcasm, and most of all, romance because I love the pair. Most of my fics linger in the sublime but this one will be an easy read. I hope you have fun reading D

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So many faces, so many races  
Different voices, different choices

Kaleidoscope, Francis Magalona

Once upon a time, there was a world that was as flat as it could ever be. The sun rose from the east and set to the west. The moon shone when the sun rested. North, East, South, West, when the sun no longer shone, it was night time. In Heaven, the Immortals lived in grandeur, untouched by night and day. And underneath the clouds, the mortals scampered about in their daily lives – its name was Hogwarts.

Life was grand. Life was beautiful.

His name was Draco and he was an Immortal. Nothing could be better than that. He was young and he was beautiful. All the other gods and goddesses in the Immortal Realm had aged in their appearances. It was a sign that they had been around for more than a thousand years. Meanwhile, he had just awakened from his Long Sleep. All immortal born children had to remain asleep for at least a hundred years from the day they were born. And even then, another hundred years of seclusion and preparation was necessary before an immortal could traverse space and that of the Mortal Plains. There was a need for the fresh body to be prepared before entering the Circle of Time where both Mortals and Immortals commune together.

The time had come, at last. He was two hundred years old and quite prepared to show his Face to the Mortals. How privileged these peoples were to be the first witnesses of his grand entrance into their world. They would worship him and offer him things, though none of theirs would be of worth to a god like him. He deemed himself God of All Things Beautiful and he was the epitome of it all. What could they offer that would be worthy of him? Nothing. Ah, but he was a generous god and their humility would suffice. They must bow to his grace.

Of course, upon entering their realm, he must introduce himself to their leader. It was not among his list of things to like but all the gods before him had done the Introduction, and so must he.

Looking around, Draco saw that the city he was in was quite rich with a good marketplace and fashionable people. All was good. His time of Awakening was in an era of prosperity. If this was how mortals lived, then it was no wonder why the Immortals felt it crucial that these creatures of limited time should know that there were Others above them. They should know their place and that was below the Immortals. Quite simple, really – Mortals worship Immortals and Immortals do nothing to hasten their deaths.

He walked along the busy streets unrecognized and unseen. An Immortal would not deign to be visible to commoners before presenting One's self to those with privilege. Draco could have cut his journey short and appeared in the old fashioned way - out of thin air and in front of the Royal Crown regardless of what the Privileged were doing. But, he was Draco, God of All Things Beautiful, and therefore the Privileged should prepare themselves for his presence. He would enter their main gates, demand to be announced and have the grandest of all entrances that these beings would ever see in their lifetime. Besides, the next Immortal to Awaken would be in the next two hundred years. Only one Immortal woke up every two centuries and the lucky generation should celebrate for such gift.

"Announce me."

The gate guards stiffened, clad in their shiny armor and holding the spear a tad too tight in Draco's opinion. Silly beings. Were they all this stupid? Could they not comprehend that someone of supremacy was present? Provided, he was invisible but they should still know what they should do. Just how many mortals were capable of invisibility, anyway?

"Did you not hear me, mortals? Open the gate, enter and announce the presence of your new god."

The two guards looked at each other for a time. Draco was impatient and he would not be left to stand by the gate to wait. He flicked his hand and the heavy gates opened without so much effort. With a snap of his fingers, the spears of the guards let loose and fell to the ground, forcing the men to bow as he walked in.

Having seen the phenomenon by the gate, the house elves mingling about the courtyard hurriedly ran back into the palace. The midgets knew better and Draco was satisfied. It seemed that creatures of inhuman blood had more intellect, he mused. How disappointing of humans.

He decided to wait a bit so that the inhabitants of the palace would have ample time to prepare themselves to welcome an important visitor. The doors opened at last and Draco glided forward, with chin up and dignified as if everyone could see him.

One for detail, Draco eyed the carvings on the pillars and the connecting beams. The long hall that led to what he assumed was the court was lined with marble columns. Each column had a humanoid figure carved in it. These mortals had sculpted each god or goddess whom had gifted the kingdom with their presence. A sign of gratitude but to Draco, this was but proper. There should be more in this vast expanse of a residence. A room dedicated for each Immortal to rest in given any day or any time that one or two should visit.

Finally, he stood before the court and saw the guards and servants, warily standing by the side. They felt his presence, very good. Now, where was the crowned Hero of this land so that this Introduction could be done and over with. Draco was displeased at the idea the he, a god, must wait for the arrival of the mortal's leader. The full court should have been waiting for HIM, instead.

A door to the east opened and there came a man so pale Draco wondered if this one ever went out to the sun. A slight irritation gurgled in Draco's blood at the sight of this young man. He was pale, as pale as the snow was white and his eyes were of lush green that reminded Draco of rain forests. His mane was jet, and the sunlight that streaked through the glass dome above them only made it shine with a soft halo. It was so black that the light did nothing to change its shade. The only reason that Draco did not smite this young man was that it was earthly beauty. Nothing compared to Draco's ethereal one. No mortal should come close to a god's magnificence as a rule of thumb.

When the young man walked to the front, Draco caught sight of a scar on his forehead hidden by loose strands of hair. Ah, imperfection. The young man was forgiven of his almost sinful beauty.

"Harry Potter," said the young man, "sworn Guardian of Hogwarts, Overseer of the Land Where Mortals Thread. And this, come forth," gesturing to the lady who stood not too far, "is Hermione Granger, my loyal advisor."

Draco turned to see this Granger whom he had heard much about, Favored by the Council of Knowledge. She stepped forward and stood right next to Potter, dressed in a simple white gown that just brushed against the polished stone of the front court. Her long hair cascaded down her back in loose and wild curls that sourly reminded Draco of a bush. She was not a hideous sight for someone who had slave blood coursing through her veins. Mudblood, they were called in ancient times. Draco did not approve of intermingling classes or races but he was not yet born when these things had happened.

If he had a choice and was of power then, Mudblood would remain slaves, Halfblood as mere commoners and of the lower middle class and Purebloods to be the noble and rule over the Land Where Mortals Thread. Alas, the stupidity and leniency of the gods before him had caused much chaotic fusion of bloods.

Realization came to him that the current rulers of the Land Where Mortals Thread were a Halfblood and a Mudblood. Unfathomable! Where had all the Pureblood gone? He knew it. All the richness and beauty he had seen earlier was a façade to the dirt that was inside the very palace. Are these the people he, an immortal, was under oath to aid when asked? He must have a talk with the Heavenly Council.

Despite his dissatisfaction of the matter, Draco had a duty to perform. This in mind, he set aside further plans and made himself visible to do as Tradition required of him. "I am Draco Malfoy, God of All Things Beautiful, son of Lucius the Sun God."

He waited for the customary bow of these mortals but no one gave it. His eyes widened, and narrowed as he hissed, "Will you not bow to a god willingly or should I make you?"

It was not a suggestion.

The Undeserving Potter, as Draco now dubbed him, dared reply, "Ah, pardon us, Draco Malfoy, but that custom had changed. None of these people lower their heads to anyone anymore."

"Didn't your forefathers teach you to respect an Immortal? And, that's _Lord_ Draco Malfoy, mortal." Draco could not believe this disrespect.

"Respect is earned in this place." Came a voice from the doorway. The sound of boots echoed in the hall as a muddy young man stood next to Potter.

This was insult after insult. How dare these mortals bring forth a dirty _thing _and speak of respect?

"Earned?" Draco scoffed, "You mock me, creature. Speak to me when you look respectable." Turning to Potter, "What is this ridicule that you show me? First, you do not bow. Next, you show a Mudblood for an advisor and then a literal mud creature shows up talking about respect. This will reach the Heavens. I will make sure of that and you all will be persecuted by me or another god older than I am."

"Excuse me, but…what did you just call the advisor?" said the mud creature.

"A Mudblood. A slave. Need I define it to you? Ah, never mind. You won't be able to understand as you surely are not human and gifted to have rea-"

The mud creature took only three strides with its long legs and grabbed Draco by the wrist, dragging the god out of the court, "The likes of you are not welcome here."

At this, Draco's fury flared. It was one thing to verbally insult him and it was another to touch an Immortal with disrespect. He used his free hand to grab onto the creature's neck, ignoring the dirt that would surely taint his palms for touching this disgusting individual.

"Ron!"

"Ah, so your pet has a name."

"That's Ronald Weasley for you, you insufferable… arrogant…" Weasley was slowly turning purple due to lack of air. He should have known that a god would be stronger than normal. Despite the obvious difference of strength, the determination from Weasley's face never wavered. With the last of his strength, Weasley unsheathed his poisoned dagger and blindly slashed his newfound enemy.

Draco released his hold when he felt something prick his skin. He touched his cheek and confirmed what he thought was impossible. Blood. Red. He was bleeding and it was red. The Sun God's blood was supposed to be gold or silver. Yet, he was bleeding red. His fingers trembled as the confusion and surprise finally reached his face.

He felt the tip of something cold and metallic touch his chin, forcing him to look at his adversary. Narrowed blue eyes burned holes in his as he felt more than heard the words, "Ronald Weasley, Captain of Quidditch. You are not my god and I do not and will not follow you for as long as I breathe."

Weasley. Weasley. Where had he heard of that name before? Draco was still conscious that his cheek was bleeding red blood but he struggled to compose his mind. It was important that he remember that name. He was also worried that the wound took so long to heal. It should have healed as soon as the blade left his skin but this one didn't.

Weasley stepped back and sheathed his dagger, turning away from the god with great effort. Only Granger's pleading look made him trudge his way to their side instead of taking pleasure on attempting to slay a god.

Cursing, Weasley removed his helm and shoved it to one of the house elves. He looked at Potter and then at Granger with a scowl, "Well, sorry I was late. We were still celebrating at the borders and…"

Granger raised an eyebrow at the muddy state of Weasley, "Mud and celebration?"

"Uhm…the dragons were difficult and mud did protect us from burning too fast." Weasley offered a smile and raised both hands when he saw the worried and shocked faces of his best friends. "No one died."

Draco was being ignored but it didn't matter. He needed this time to observe the one who had drawn red blood from his immortal body. The wound had closed already but there were crimson stains not only on his cheek but also on his garb, contrasting heavily with the whiteness of his silk. He had observed the Weasley as the helm was removed, exposing the red mane, a stark scarlet that was so vibrant. It seemed to come to life some more when the light touched it and it rivaled his own golden white strands.

The Weasley's skin was just as pale as his with only the freckles that splattered over his nose and cheeks to cause imperfection. Even so, the freckles seemed to serve more as distinction and uniqueness that Draco did not have. Draco's skin was as clear and smooth as ivory. Not a mark found anywhere. And the blue eyes that Draco realized he now hated, was as lively and colorful as the sky on a good day. Meanwhile, his eyes were of grey that had been known to remind other gods of glaciers in its crystalline effect.

This was not right at all. No mortal should outshine an Immortal.

"Weasley." Draco breathed. He narrowed his eyes and disappeared in the next blink of a mortal eye.

Back in Heaven, Draco lay in a hammock made of ivy and relived what had happened.

All things considered, he was a god and he should not be worried. Right.

Wrong.

None of the Heavenly Records had shown anything about a Weasley with an Immortal blood. None of the Weasley had an interaction with the Heavens either. At first, Draco's mind had raced that perhaps, the Weasley was a clan of Godslayers seeing that he, an immortal, had bled mortal blood. Apparently, that wasn't the case. The Weasley was just as mortal as any other Pureblood.

This situation called for a higher being. He left his domain and searched for the bottom of the staircase that led to his father's place.

"Father!"

"What is it?" Lucius Malfoy, God of the Sun, stalked down his very high pedestal and glowered at his spawn. "I have things to do, land to shine upon and then you call me. Could this not wait until night time?"

"I'm sure the mortals can handle one or two eclipses in a year, Father. This is important."

"I'm waiting."

"I seem to recall the name Weasley but have no real knowledge as to how, when or why. Perhaps, you know, O Enlightened Father of mine." Draco hoped his sarcasm wasn't dripping so much.

"Blood-traitors, that's what they are."

Draco but raised an eyebrow, waiting for clarification.

A look of impatience crossed Lucius Malfoy's features as his glower intensified, making his already white hair turn into a blinding color which Draco could not even name. What could possibly be whiter than white?

"Blood-traitors, my stupid son, are those who had tried to go against the flow of Time and Life."

A voice of question from Draco was stopped by Lucius raising a hand.

"Speak only when I am done, boy." Clearing his throat, "Time is marked by yours truly, ME, because I have mandate over the Day. Life's mandate had taken a long vacation and the incompetent fool still has not returned. He is the laziest of all Immortals and had given these Mortals so much Freedom. Look at where it led. Purebloods, Mudbloods, Muggles, _together_!" Lucius spat the last word like poison.

"And the Weasleys were among those who supported this blasphemy and chaos. They breached through Time! The Pureblood was more advanced than the Muggle and when they tore down the barrier that separated the time … I cannot even find the right words for all of it. Ah, the headache. Heaven was so full of inconceivable mess in that era and Chaos only celebrated with Life. Families like that of Weasley's are to blame why there are Halfblood now. Order and I tried so hard to separate the peoples and there pranced a Weasley too curious for his o-"

Draco idly wondered if he could arrange a meeting with Dumbledore, among the oldest of Immortals, good friend of Life, also an Acting Mandate of Life. His father had began rattling about a time Draco could care less about at the moment and none of his father's rants answered one question in his mind.

"Lucius Malfoy!" The Moon Goddess stalked in, giving Lucius an icy glare.

"Yes, Narcissa?"

"You are not on your post. I will not cover up for your absence any longer. I need my sleep, too. And it's a full moon tonight."

Draco watched this brief interaction between his mother and father. Sometimes he wondered how the Sun and the Moon had met and was able to conceive him. The two barely meet and the rare times were of dusk and, right now, the Eclipse. Ah, no, Draco shook his head and forced himself to focus.

The Sun did not bother to say goodbye and left for his pedestal once again, shining ever so brightly the higher he went. Draco rolled his eyes. He, for one, thought that being the Sun god was among the most boring of all guardianship. What would one do at standing so high and looking down on so many?

Tilting his head, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. His sadist of a father would let the sun shine so bright when he was moody and the land could scorch in heat. Until the Cloud and the Rain hurriedly pushed Sun over long enough to save what little they could.

Draco smirked. Well then, now that he was around, there's a mandate for Beauty. He would make sure that all things were nice to look at. Plans for the future kept Draco's mind busy and the previous thought had left him entirely.

-


	2. Kaleidoscope Part II

**Title**: Kaleidoscope  
**Part**: II  
**Author**: Cugami  
**Pairing**: Ron/Draco  
**Summary**: Alternate Universe. Ron is a mortal who made an Immortal Draco bleed mortal blood.  
**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter Series copyrighted to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. Kaleidoscope World lyrics are by Francis Magalona.

**A/N**: Well, it's been months since I wrote the first part. I will be continuing this but it will be slow in coming as I am rather busy trying to finish college. Part I is still the same, but with a few corrections on typos before. Thanks for reading. :)

* * *

_Some are mad, while others laugh  
Some live alone with no better half  
Others grieve while others curse  
And others mourn behind a big black hearse_

_Kaleidoscope Wo_rld by Francis Magalona

* * *

"Reconsider."

All the movement ceased inside the room. The clothes stopped folding, the shoes still in mid-air, including the young man who was orchestrating the activity earlier. One heartbeat, then two, and finally, the blur of activities resumed until all the suitcases closed and locked themselves. Ron's face contorted into an uncharacteristic scowl as he turned to look at his visitor, a young lady whose voice of command could literally send a great number of men to bend their wills. It was a good thing that they had been long friends. Nonetheless, he still didn't like that tone of voice.

"We've discussed this a number of times. Yes, I have to go home. No, I don't want to live in the palace. No, I will not change my mind. Yes, I am leaving today."

The stiffness of her posture was an indication that this would be another long and relentless debate. Without the long gown Hermione used for the formal Introduction with the god, she looked less elegant but every bit as graceful in wearing a simple set of white tunic and gray pants. She made her way inside, each step light but purposeful; it almost reminded Ron of when they fought in the Great War and she was in espionage before climbing to a high enough rank where she was no longer in the field.

She placed a hand on his arm and said, tiredly, "Be practical. You're the captain and it would be much safer if you stay in Grimmauld instead of having to travel back and forth from Burrow."

And so, here they go again. "You forget. I'm a Wizard and a Pureblood. I have means of traveling that need not require long walks. You know the fastest way to send word to me and there are guards all over the capital. They do their jobs well even without Quidditch to play officers."

She did not look convinced.

"Besides, what would you feel if you see knights walking around the capital everyday?" Ron shook his head, "Think about it. The presence of Quidditch tend to make people think there might be something wrong in Grimmauld. War's over, Hermione."

"You fought the war on our side. Your family did, too. I don't see why…" Sighing, she gave Ron a look that said she would not drop this thoroughly. There was unease among the people when the highest of all ranking guards were around. The Quidditch were made up of Pureblood knights. It played a déjà vu among the ordinary people, Muggles, that there was a power not everyone was gifted with.

Much as the three of them had tried to bring together all three races, the Pureblood and the Muggle just could not get along. The world that belonged to the Muggleborn was the only neutral ground at the moment. Though the Muggle citizens felt comfortable with the Halfblood and the Muggleborn, the Pureblood was a whole other level.

"I'll leave my armor here. It's not needed where I live."

"It's not right, Ron."

"Hmm?"

"Your forefathers made all these things possible. And now, the Pureblood is the outcast in Hogwarts. Halfblood owe their existence to that time when the Pureblood crossed the wall to the Muggle. A Muggleborn like myself would not have gained what I know now if not for the teachings of the Pureblood, also."

"I would prefer not to use the word 'outcast' for the Pureblood, Hermione." Ron hoped this would end soon. He did not like arguing with Hermione, namely because she would find holes everywhere and she would prod and poke and find more things to argue about until he just gave in. He could never win.

Just then, Harry Potter, true to his name and reputation as the Hero, just walked in Ronald Weasley's room to do just that. Be a hero.

Ron smiled.

"Your sister's here, Ron."

"I'll go meet her. Hermione here…" Ron didn't bother to continue and slapped Harry's back on his way to the door. With a last glance at Hermione, he waved and left the room he hardly slept in. His luggage obediently followed its owner outside until the house elves picked everything up and whisked into thin air.

Hermione looked back and sighed. "Sometimes, I can't help but wonder, Harry."

"Don't. You'll have to understand and trust Ron on this. It's much safer to give the Pureblood a land of their own than have them live in the capital. They're welcome here, I gave them that reassurance. But, that's all I can do."

"Then the war concluded nothing. There's still conflict."

Harry looked at Hermione, "The dead no longer counts by the dozen per hour."

-

Ron walked along the corridors, past the statues, past the gallery of frozen paintings, past all the chandeliers that lined the ceiling and past all things that were glorious and unimaginably expensive decorations. At first, it was a welcome sight and an almost exuberant feeling to deserve such an elaborate lifestyle.

As all dreamers did, most tend to wake up. And he was very much awake after the quiet had settled from what seemed an endless war.

He felt arms around him all of a sudden and smiled down at his sister, "Hey Ginny. I wasn't going to be late for supper, you know. You didn't have to come and pick me up."

"It's been a week and I missed you." Her laughter was muffled in the fabric of his clothes. Pulling away but not entirely letting go, "Come, brother. I've brought the carriage despite Percy's protests. It's horse-drawn and not a magical creature, also, as per your request upon entering the capital. We'll take in the scenery on the way to the pier."

The smile on Ron's face faltered. All of them had grown accustomed to magic that to be denied of such was a handicap. But, in the capital, the less magic visible, the better. His sister dragged him all the way out where their carriage was waiting. Indeed, Ron noticed the two stallions.

One winked. And Ron knew they weren't real stallions. He shot Ginny a look.

"Well, they _are_ normal _looking_ stallions."

"That can sprout wings and a horn anytime." Ron sighed. He hoped the winged-unicorns would behave long enough before a Muggle hunter decided it would be profitable. "You know there's a reason why magical creatures are hardly seen near the capital, Ginny!"

Percy opened the door and cast his siblings an impatient glance, "Well? I don't have all day, you two. I still have taxes to collect after I drop you off."

Ginny sat across her two brothers, shaking her head. "Honestly. Percy, you work too much and it's rubbing on Ron."

"I told you, I could've just gone home on my own…" Sighing, Ron looked at his older brother as he closed the door. Something told him an escort like this didn't bode well. He was only gone for a week. What could have possibly gone wrong while he was at work?

The curtains were drawn the whole time and the ride was silent. Ron didn't want to ask what was wrong. Percy seemed busy enough with his ledger and Ginny fell asleep. He pulled the cloth a little to look outside and saw the citizens mingling about with their daily routine. An ordinary sight to an ordinary day except that these kids at play would be either be awed or scared if the 'horses' drawing the carriage began to fly.

They tried, they really did. But, it was hard to change people's world views. The Muggle thought the Pureblood were dangerous and most of the Pureblood thought the Muggle were barbaric and primitive.

At least people were no longer trying to kill each other and the war concluded with a truce, giving way for economic progress - as Percy had so succinctly put it. Since the races were more or less civil with each other right now, the only remaining problem was the presence of uncontrollable beasts outside the capital. Mostly Halfblood but those who failed to become entirely human or take human form - those Halfblood with more beast blood running through their veins and whose intellect could not be tamed and rationalized with the humans. It was a dirty job but it was something only Pureblood mages could handle. He certainly hoped the truth about the origins of these beasts would never reach Hermione's ears. Bad enough what had happened with the House Elves.

Grimmauld was the capital and safest place in Hogwarts, as people perceive it. The Pureblood live in another city, however. It was located in a different continent, separated entirely from the capital. The continent was magical, wild but safe to those who knew how to get around the Forbidden Forest that surrounded Burrow City.

Still, Ron could not help but brood. The carriage was slow and, indeed, they were taking their time in traveling. From the small partition between curtains, he could see the pier and the short queue of fellow Purebloods ready to leave the main continent for home. From what he could tell, nothing seemed amiss and he was ready to bang his head against the glass window to get rid of any paranoia. He could not shake off the feeling that his siblings were purposely hiding something from him or, at least, making a very short journey impossibly long.

Crossing the straight by a Muggle invention, a ship that relies on natural wind to set sail and the laboriously menial task of paddling through the unfriendly waters, irritated Ron. By and large, Ron was perfectly fine with this form of transportation but as of this point, he just wanted to arrive, slump in bed and sleep the rest of the afternoon. The long and bumpy ride inside a carriage, then the slowest transportation on water and worse, they still have to land on an island and transfer to a different boat that can cross through wards - Wizard invention, of course.

It took hours, to say the least. Ron was exceptionally tired of seeing nothing but water and was personally glad to feel the ship anchor. It was dusk when they arrived and it still took a while for their carriage to be brought out. Even the winged-unicorns looked glad to shred off the camouflage and extend their, no doubt, stiff wings. From the port to their land went much, much, faster and hardly a bump to make Ron's muscles ache more from being cramped in a box too long.

Bill was the first one to greet Ron when he entered their manor. He looked tired, Ron noted as he returned the hug. With them orphaned, it was up to Bill to be the head of house and it showed that their eldest did not like it much. The Weasley was an ancient clan, it's possible that they could trace their ancestry as far back as the early settlements were formed. Because of this ancestry, even though their current monetary situation could barely be considered grand, the name they carry could get them anywhere if they so chose to. Ron could gripe continuously why their family seemed to not use such privilege to its full advantage every time the sight of strife would come to his eyes, but most of the time he understood. Besides, he was the one who kept turning down the invitation to live the life of the king's best friend.

Theirs was a decent living, and it was enough.

"You must be tired," said Bill.

"You," Ron emphasized, "must be tired." He laughed and allowed himself to be dragged inside by Bill and pushed by Ginny. He _was_ tired.

Just then, Fred bounded out of the fireplace with George, cheekily grinning at each other and at everyone in the room. "Mission accomplished." They chorused.

"Pansy, miraculously, didn't argue. She even looked apologetic and sent her sympathies that 'dear Ronald Weasley' had to travel the Muggle way. The council will be held tomorrow, though." George all but snorted the words out.

"Council?" Ron looked at Bill. Now, it was starting to make sense why they made sure he would arrive after dark.

"We thought to drill you in for the night on the happenings of the past while you were gone. That way, you can handle them without losing your temper."

"I do not!"

There was a chorus of laughter as the siblings slapped and hauled their brother into the dining room. It was to be a long night and all intended to start it good and early so their temperamental brother can hit the ceiling well-fed.

To be continued…


	3. Kaleidoscope Part III

It was a dark and stormy night, or it should have been according to the Hero's Best Friend, what with the foreboding doom that his gut seemed to insist. Instead, Sir Ronald Weasley stared at the star-studded sky which somehow mocked the very stillness of the night with its continuous blinking and sparkling. Maybe it was just him but he thought he saw a star actually bounce.

Other than that, everything outside the window was eerily immobile, not a sound and not even a breeze as if time had stood still. It might as well, he thought with a snort. Seeing that all his siblings had retired for the night --- no longer able to tolerate his urge to strangle each and every one of them and being quite vocal about it, too --- he just sighed tiredly and took to bed. Besides, a bouncing star was the last straw to his sanity. Sleep embraced him with his last thoughts leaving his lips in a mutter, "Parkinson, you wench."

Come dawn, Ron swore he only just slept a couple of hours at most and the sun was blaring through his window already. In truth, it was a couple of hours and the sun had simply risen early that day. He pulled the duvet to cover his face and turned his back away from the light, intent to continue his slumber. Alas, this was not so as the sun's rays began to burn on his exposed nape.

He sat up, suddenly too awake, and shot a glare at the now normal sunlight. He could have sworn that something almost cooked his skin. Figuring that sleep was now a lost cause, he left his bed with a disgruntled scowl and grabbed the robe from the nearby chair. As soon as he left his room, he already heard the racket downstairs. No doubt people had already begun the race. Such was the pain of living with six people and one bathing room.

Meanwhile, up in Heaven – a place Mortals called as such for the lack of a better term available – was the loud laughter of father and son. Lucius the Sun God could not deny his son the small mischief, besides, he needed no reason to toy with the lineage of Weasleys. For all the chaos the family line had created, they should be glad that there existed an Eternal Law which every immortal answered to: no god or goddess should directly intervene in the lives of the mortals lest they be tried for eternal sleep or worse, be bound to the Natural Law and become puny mortals themselves. Without that Eternal Law, every single Weasley would have tasted Lucius's overwhelming hand and they would call it 'fate'.

At times it was irritating that Immortals had no access to Fate's books. They could lead the Mortals to any direction but they could not move them and it was infernally frustrating to watch the idiots take every stupid step before stumbling over to right track in achieving their goals in life. He had the sneaking suspicion that Fate's books were all empty but just there to be used as a scapegoat every now and then.

"Well, boy, you owe me one," was all Lucius had said before he directed his cloud to hover elsewhere, all the while shining brighter and higher to wake every lazy Mortal earlier than the normal today.

"What was that all about, dear?" Came the soothing voice of the Moon Goddess, Narcissa. She covered her lips to stifle a yawn, droopy eyes giving Draco an impatient stare.

"Nothing important, Mother. I saw stars amok in the night sky. Hmmm… What do you suppose Father will ask of me when I am to pay a debt?"

"Ah, don't remind me. My jewelries were all over the sky and I think four stars fell because of some game the avatars were playing." She shrugged one shoulder and stretched. Just as her body seemed to fall, she remained afloat and their surroundings had changed from endless clouds to her bed chambers. "As for your father… maybe another crown. I suggest constructing a room full of mirrors and then locking him in it." She smirked and yawned daintily, waving her son off. "I am to sleep. Play elsewhere."

Why no one treated him like an adult would always be a pet peeve. Draco shook his head and glared one last time at his slumbering mother before he left her chambers with just a step. One second he was in her marbled palace and with his next step, he was in Burrow City. The itinerary of the day included a visit to the Chosen Ones. It was unfortunate that the current Crown was a commoner and with the merge, Grimmauld was the capital. He should suggest war to right things.

Draco paused, and then smiled to himself as he made his way through the busy streets of Burrow City. Once in a while, he would enter a shop disguised as an ordinary mortal and enjoyed himself with their goods.

Meanwhile, Ron had arrived at the Parkinson Manor without his entourage of siblings, not that he needed them nor could they stop him if he suddenly felt the urge to strangle the light out of one countess. "Parkinson!"

"Why, good morn to you, my sweet." Pansy waved her hand at the house elves and the double doors slammed shut before the crackling sound to signal that the servants had left the vicinity. She wore an off-shouldered red gown that flowed freely to her ankles, never once brushing the polished ground as she walked.

Ron had to blink at her attire. "Expecting someone? And I reckon you hated red."

"My fiancée, and not anymore because my fiancée is obsessed with red," She haughtily replied, raising her hand for him to kiss. Pansy Parkinson was the current countess of Burrow City, a position of power she wields like an iron maiden. Ever since she had taken over, Burrow had had a busy reconstruction.

He only raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "I don't remember us being together, let alone the day I 'proposed' an engagement."

To this, she laughed, covering her lips with a matching red fan she had produced out of thin air. "Darling, darling… all marriages are political by origin. People of our standing aren't like the fools who marry for lo…" And she suddenly found her voice gone.

Her glare spoke volumes as she folded her fan with a snap. She slid it open over her throat and her voice was back, growling, "That was low, Weasley. I assumed we've grown past the pranks. I knew those commoner friends of yours wouldn't be good for you."

"That was mild considering the kind of 'prank' you pulled at announcing our engagement. Now," he stepped closer and took her fan, which he knew was her wand, then smiled, raising his left arm, "you will rectify this matter at the council. Shall we?"

"The nerve…" she took his offered arm nonetheless, mocking as it were. "Let me just state that this was not my idea."

"And correction, I am not obsessed with red."

"Could've fooled me…what with all the red in your life, red upstairs, red downstairs and…" And for the second time that day, Ron had silenced her with a spell. There were times when she hated how the purebloods had evolved, and Ron being able to cast spells without speaking or waving his wand was a reminder of it.

Because of the wars of the past, especially against the Muggles, the Pureblood had found fault in their weaponry. The spells were powerful, sure enough, but the Muggle inventions were swift and getting better the longer the war continued. In turn, Purebloods grudgingly surrendered if only to acquire the knowledge and adopt their magic into these things before another war broke out. Now, all the Purebloods with enough practice only needed to embed their wand into an object of their choice. For as long as the wand ingredients were intact and within the person's grasp, there was no need to wave the stick.

In Ron's case, his wand was forged with his dagger and that piece of metal never left his side. Pansy also spitefully admitted that having fought the war, Ron had improved with his magic immensely. Wandless magic may have become common, wordless spell-casting were of a different league.

The whole Quidditch could do it. It was one of the requirements to enter that band of brotherhood. Pansy used to be in Quidditch but she had chosen to lead the disintegrating Burrow City instead. Besides, field work was a tedious profession for someone of her class --- which then reminded her, once more, about the unfavorable situation the Weasleys were currently at. Financially.

Pansy's mind had wandered so deep that it took Ron tugging her ear to bring her back to the present. "What?" She hissed and realized that the silencing spell had already worn off. If Pansy compared Ron to the lanky boy of his teen years, this was far beyond remarkable of an improvement. Personality didn't improve, however.

"Ah, welcome back. Just thought I'd wake you up before I open the door to the study," he peered intently at her, daring for a retaliation that didn't come because he opened the door and there was just business from there on. The two councilors stood up in acknowledgement, nodding in greeting.

The Council was made up of the representatives from the four powers in Burrow City, belonging to the four Grand Houses of Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Legend said that the Houses were in the direct bloodline of the four Creation Gods whom the Grand Houses were named after. But, the Grand Houses had been around for as far back as the time before their people had evolved from the oral to the written history and no one could trace the oldest family lines farther than that.

These Grand Houses represent the four regions of Burrow City, each region maintained and protected by a chosen family. Slytherin to the south, where the busiest trading districts and ports were; Gryffindor to the east with a tropical climate and expanse of forests that melded with the Forbidden Forest at the edges, which made the area the perfect ground for Burrow's military; Ravenclaw to the north, a mountainous region where most of Burrow's precious minerals were mined; Hufflepuff to the west, vast plains and farmlands where Burrow's food and raw supply mainly came from.

Despite this distribution of territories, each family could have their say and hand across their designated lines. The main goal was still the betterment of Burrow City and the maintenance of its foundations was of grave concern to everyone in power.

From the Gryffindor, the Weasleys had been voted in due to their ancient family line which some assumed that if the legend was true, then they would have the bloodline of gods, but the unanimous vote was mainly because of the contribution of the Weasleys. They were among the founders of Burrow City and the technology available today when the walls were breached, crossing over to the Muggle realms – now called Grimmauld City. Not to mention that the family had produced gifted mages in its long existence. Even the commotions of some Weasleys that could threaten to dishonor the lineage were overlooked in respect to the achievements of their ancestors.

From the Ravenclaw, the Li House had been chosen because they have the closest familial ties with the ancient Fu Zi, who was treated as if he were a living legend up until today. He was a known professor in his time and his passing was a great loss to the academes. His influences remained apparent to the daily lives of the citizens in their city-state. Some built shrines for him, revered his once existence as if they were worshipping a god. And if he were to become one, none of their people would begrudge him of that elevation.

From the Hufflpuff, the Cauldwells, a pacifist house that had always been, and without fail, the representatives of Burrow City through ages in negotiations. It seemed innate in their family line to have one or two Benign Souls for every generation. A Benign Soul was rare. The ones born with a Benign Soul could exercise the power to calm any battle, verbal, physical, magical, name it. They could stop it but only for a given time, and the more the Benign Soul used this power to suspend a war, he was shortening his life span. For every day that a large scale war was suspended due to them, a year was taken away from their life.

From the Slytherin were the Lestranges, mainly due to their marriage with the Black. The Blacks were more ancient than the Weasleys, noble and a line of kings. The line had been abruptly cut short, unfortunately. The last living Black was dishonored in the previous war for aiding the cause of the merge. With no relative willing to restore his position, he was considered dead until the war was over.

Other families had argued over the legal rights for years, and the Lestranges won. Sirius Black was still treated with civility but the man would rather live at the capital than at Burrow. The Lestranges didn't bother to insist that he stay. They were known mostly for their ambition and the tangible proof that they could back their claims. The family had built a network of influences all over Burrow City that it was impossible to live one's life without having to brush against a Lestrange-run facility.

The Parkinsons had married into the Lestranges and the union produced a staggering duopoly that alarmed the three houses. As of the present, checks and balances had been re-established so that there would not be another Parkinson-Lestrange duopoly of the Burrow City's economic and political sectors. The four families representing the Houses were licensed to execute a councilor, even eradicate the whole family line, if there was a threat of overpowering each other or ruling over Burrow as an authoritarian. It was a pact of blood their generation had made between Bill Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Su Li and Owen Cauldwell.

Ron and Pansy took their seats after the exchanges with the others. Legally, it was Bill who should be sitting here but the eldest Weasley already had enough on his shoulders concerning their family's small fortune and region. The only other man who was willing to sacrifice his time of the day was Ron. And so, the oldest and youngest male of the Weasley house shared responsibilities when Ron was not on duty serving Grimmauld's government.

"First thing's first," said Su Li of the Ravenclaw, "we do not approve of the engagement."

"Oh, that one…" Ron sent a withering glare at Pansy, who just replied with a roll of her eyes. "I assure you that that is a misunderstanding."

Su Li leaned over, lacing his fingers together as his eyes volleyed from Ron to Pansy and back, "Be that as it may, do you both know why we are going to step in concerning this matter if this pursues?" He turned his head towards Pansy.

"I do. Don't assume me to be ignorant, Li." She crossed her arms and glared through narrowed eyes. "Our union would have suggested an overpowering of both the Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses, imbalance and such and such."

"Which begs the question as to why you made the announcement in the first place," Ron's voice was flat.

"As I have mentioned earlier," Pansy pointedly glared at Ron before turning back to the table, "it wasn't my idea and I do not wish to marry Ronald Weasley if it's a matter of choice."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Ron was affronted. His confidence was still as sensitive as it had been when he was younger about certain things; relationships, among many.

She faced her palm to him for silence and continued, "It means you're not my type. Now, moving on… I have discussed this with my house. And we all must admit that the financial situation of the Weasley house isn't pleasant. Everybody respects their name, there is no doubt about that, but for a family in the position to govern, the poorly maintained lifestyle needs to be looked over. There is a need for all of us here to maintain certain decorum in public."

Slighted, Ron arched an eyebrow, "Thread carefully, Parkinson. You are insulting my family."

"For your information, Weasley, your finances are staggering. I'm sure Bill is working hard and individually, some of you are well enough to afford an above average living. But, you are public figures, and above average will not cut it. To add to that, you handle the military and we do not want starving soldiers. Admit it, finance is not the strongest asset of the Weasley house."

"And your point?"

"A legal union of our houses could support the Weasley's broken leg."

"Excuse me! What will you get out of this, Parkinson? Be honest. The taxes shoulder the expenditures and development projects are discussed in this room. Unless you're suggesting that Bill should try corruption---"

"Are you hinting on something?"

"Hit a nerve?"

Su Li sat back and looked at Owen Cauldwell, waiting for a voice of opinion.

"I have to agree with Weasley on this one. If it's just a financial backing for a regional project and the military, then it's a duty for all of us to take treasuries from our respective regions to support the Gryffindor area." Owen commented thoughtfully, preventing Ron and Pansy to have a row.

Pansy snapped her attention to Owen, "I know that but the estate…"

"Hah! I see it now." Ron slammed his hand on the table, standing up and pointing an accusing finger at Pansy. "It's the land!"

"Have you seen your land, Weasley!" Pansy's voice was getting louder and she was now standing as well. "Don't you know how to invest or your family simply does not know how to take an opportunity when there is one!"

"This doesn't concern the region, then! It's all about your personal empire and acquiring more than you'll ever need!"

"Why you bastard, I'm trying to set your family back to its old glory because your reputation as a leader is on shaky grounds! Can you imagine if some other family will overthrow your position simply because you can't support yourselves!"

"What do you care!"

"If one family takes a fall, the people will begin to question the validity of the rest. Don't you understand? You have to build your forte!"

"Come to think…." Owen turned to Su, eyes wide.

Su nodded, considering it. "Lestrange overthrew the Blacks in the past and something like it can happen in Gryffindor, given that someone in your region would be ambitious enough."

"I don't believe this. Do we rule this city-state based on fear?" Ron's face was red, struggling with his temper.

"There had been a few misdemeanors in Gryffindor as of late," was Owen's only reply.

"Your twin brothers with their businesses aren't helping any. They're often the first ones to bend the law in their favors. Not really a good example and reflects that the ruling house itself doesn't seem so stable." Su explained, weighing the odds mentally.

"A marriage with Slytherin would likely induce fear in Gryffindor, and you both should file for a divorce once the stirring doubts are tamed. We will maintain the balance of power in Burrow."

Just then the sound of hands clapping came from one corner of the room, "Bravo. This is what I expect from such gatherings." There stood a blond so familiar to Ron, he drew out the dagger from its sheath. Everyone in the room stilled at Ron's reaction.

"My Lord," Pansy curtseyed and lowered her head, as did Owen and Su.

"And this is why you are the Chosen Ones, but as for this imbecile… where is the true heir of Gryffindor?" Draco narrowed his eyes at the dagger Ron held. "Haven't you learned from our previous meeting? Bow to your superior lest you pay a visit to Voldemort with my graces. Say hello to him, by the way. I think Death is quite bored with the ugly beasts that your knights send."

The pale hand had barely lifted to strike when Ron's words cut open a memory.

"You bled by my blade."

Draco's fingers reached for his cheek instinctively, checking if there was a scar or blood once more but found none. He growled and sent a wind to knock Ron off his feet, slamming him against the closed doors.

Three sets of eyes met upon hearing the exchange. The same question echoed in their minds, concerning Ron's roots.

Wincing, Ron hoped he didn't break anything. His back was giving him a difficult time of standing up. He hated this god. Of all the gods who could have woken up during his lifetime, it just had to be this inconsiderate bastard who flaunted his power if dissatisfied.

"Weasley, do remember that I am a god and that I can hear your thoughts without trying. Hurry and pick one that you can live without for the rest of your life, a limb or your tongue?"

"What?" Ron pushed to stand, picking up his dagger and sliding it in its sheathe. The god bled but Ron highly doubted it could happen again. Not today or until he could figure out why. He shoved the idea out of his mind and replaced it with random things from chocolate to varying treats until he heard his stomach grumble.

Draco's eyes turned cold as his mind was bombarded with the most ludicrous combination of feasts. He gave credit for the attempt to cover up one's thoughts but the mages usually used a spell which was ineffective when one was against a god. This mortal succeeded by being mundane. How insulting. Was that a smirk? Draco seethed.

Firewhiskeys and a fountain of absinthe filled Ron's mind but he saw the slight in Malfoy's eyes and was happy. In his mind, he was drinking with his mates and his lips twitched as he walked over to his side of the table.

Pansy cleared her throat, mindful of how the temperature had dropped. She didn't know what occurred between Ron and their Lord but her door now had scratches, her marbles had cracked and some vases were now uselessly lying all over her flooring in shattered pieces just from that short clamor. And if things didn't stop, there might be more broken things and a broken Weasley would not bode well with the balance. "My Lord…"

"What is it?" Draco sounded irate, now trying to shield his mind so that he would not see nor hear the gluttonous thoughts of the irritating knight.

She flinched but deigned to continue, "We were not forewarned about your visit. Please accept our apologies for the lack of preparation."

Ron couldn't help but roll his eyes. He was about to take his seat when the chair slid off to the side and settled behind Malfoy, who sat on it without making sure that the chair was, indeed, over there.

"You should have known that after the Introduction to the current Crown, I would seek the Chosen." Waving his hand, the room was as pristine as it was before he came. The vases, floor tiles and the door were once more untouched. "Don't let me interrupt your council meeting. Carry on and I will listen."

Nodding, everyone slid into their seats except for Ron who remained standing and glaring at Malfoy.

"You can sit on the floor." Draco yawned.

Su, Owen and Pansy exchanged looks and bit their lips as some invisible force sent their temperamental knight to the floor, face first.

Owen began to stand and reach out for the fallen knight but was stopped as Ron waved a hand. He removed his face from the floor with great effort as if something was keeping him down there. "I'm alright. Continue with the meeting." He snorted, hoping his glare was enough to scourge the unflinching god not too far from him and sitting on his chair, too. Ron caught sight of a smirk from those lips but it was gone by the time he managed to pry his head off the ground. He knew the god was watching him despite the fact that he was facing the other three.

"It is agreed then. There will be union between two houses until the Gryffindor region stabilizes."

"Hey, don't I get a say in this matter?" Ron had settled on leaning against the window, arms crossed. If it weren't a god who had literally mopped his face to the floor, he would be embarrassed. It had been a long time since anyone tried to fight him and got away with it unscratched.

"No. This is beyond you." Pansy sniffed, glaring him down despite that fact that he was standing and very much taller than she was. "It's bad enough you service Grimmauld's government and prioritize that place over our continent."

"It's not that I prioritize Grimmauld over Burrow!" Ron snarled. This was already an old issue that just kept coming up in every council meeting whenever he was the one in attendance and not Bill.

"Hush!" Owen flattened both palms on the table and the air around them had shifted. Both Ron and Pansy felt a calmness that soothed their nerves and seeped the anger out of their wills. Everyone knew that Owen just lost a few hours of his life. Ron looked apologetic and Pansy looked accusingly at Ron.

All this Draco watched with interest. Apparently, the peace in Hogwarts was as illusionary as he assumed. He hadn't observed the workings of the Grimmauld government but as far as he could see, Burrow's was a sleeping dragon waiting to reclaim the right of leadership in Hogwarts. He was told not to play favorites but considering how disrespectful Grimmauld's peoples were, he would gladly dethrone the commoner and his slave pretending to be the Crown and an adviser.

"This brings us to the next issue, actually." Su spoke, his voice louder than necessary as if wanting to break the tension.

Ron rubbed his face with his palm. This was going to be a very long day.


End file.
